~ Proper Civility ~
Stefano walked up the path to the large gates outside the Falow estate. Three guardsmen on the inside looked up simultaneously; one stepped to the gate and looked directly into Stefano’s eyes.
“Name and purpose.” It was not a request.
The answer came in the same tone. “Stefano. I am expected.”
“Yes, m’Lord. We were told of your visit. Please, there is a side gate here on the left. I shall open it for you. And welcome to Falow Grounds.”
“Falow Grounds?”
“Yes, m’Lord. That is the name our dear Lady gave it when they moved in. And it remains.”
“Very well, I shall remember it.”
“Very good m’Lord. The gate clicked shut behind Stefano as he stepped onto the grounds.
“There is a short path just here through the rose-hedge. It will take you directly to the main doors. There should be someone there awaiting your arrival. If not, the heavy knocker will most definitely bring someone quickly.”
Stefano turned for the path, answering almost as an afterthought. “Thank you then. Have a pleasant evening.”
“You as well, m’Lord…..” The guard’s voice trailed off as the guest had already stepped through the hedge and out of view.
“Rather … uppity sort, if you ask me,” said one of the other guards.
“No more so than the Master.”
“I suppose. But I still think if you are speaking to someone you could do them the courtesy of looking at them.”
The third guard chimed in. “Enough. What is done is done – the visitor is reportedly Lord of the great house on the island. There needs be no more discussion on it. Now then, on to more pressing matters. Did either of you see the serving wench at the pub last night?”
Stefano smirked slightly as he neared the Falow main doors. Although a good distance from the guards now, his enhanced hearing gave him the ability to eavesdrop, which he did anytime he fought boredom. Although the grounds were immaculate, they were too much a clone from others he had seen in the hills of the mainland. He walked up the few steps to the grand portico where there was indeed a servant waiting – an older gentleman, eyes forward, posture too perfect for comfort. He bowed his head slightly to the newcomer.
“Lord Stefano. You are expected. This way, please.” He turned and opened one of the large oak doors then stepped back and allowed Stefano to step in first.
Stefano would have asked how the servant knew for sure it was him, but his attention was grabbed by the shear grandeur of the Falow entrance. High, domed ceiling, painted, of course, Gold leaf, which he was fairly certain was the real thing, and enough paintings on the halls to put on a decent showing at the neighborhood gallery. Though looking at the quality of the art, he was fairly certain they were all family in some manner. He turned towards a modest stairway as Lord and Lady Falow stepped down, smiling their enigmatic best.
“Stefano. It is good to see you again.”
“Terence, Abigail”
“Please Stefano, my friends call me ‘Abby’ – and no comments are needed Terance.”
“None given, my sweet.”
Stefano fought a chuckle at their gentle banter as he took her hand and raised it, bowing over it to brush his lips against the back – barely the whisper of a kiss. “Abby then. You are radiant tonight.”
“What – this? A casual gown, nothing more.”
“Hardly ‘casual’ with the array of family gems giving you the well-finished look.”
She giggled behind a hand. Stefano tried hard not to turn away in disgust at the falseness he would be dealing with.
“Stefano, my friend, dinner won’t be for at least another hour. Would you accompany us to the parlor?” Lord Falow didn’t wait for a reply but turned and walked off towards a curtained entrance across the room.
Uppity indeed, Stefano mused as he followed his host. Lady Falow stepped beside him, linking her arm through his, holding him close enough to trip over her gown if he didn’t watch each step.
“Gerik leaves his regards, but he had some thing or another with his friends in town. Said it had been planned for weeks and honor wouldn’t let him cancel. Personally, I think he just didn’t want to be part of this small gathering. However…”
Stefano cringed just from the way she broached the next subject.
“…Our two daughters would love to entertain you with a song or two. After all, we simply must repay the great kindness you showed at your home.”
He smiled at the Lady as they stepped into the parlor. There at the piano stood two girls, he assumed the aforementioned daughters, each dressed nicely, but simply – hair tied back and very much without any makeup. The curtsied as he entered the room.
Lord Falow stood in front of his fireplace, lighting a pipe. “Come in, sit. The girls have quite a treat for you.” He turned to the waiting songsters, “Now, girls.”
Stefano steeled himself, but was happily surprised. The younger was actually a rather accomplished pianist, her sister almost matched the skill on her violin. He did have to keep from shuddering at the occasional squeal from bow against strings, but all-in-all it was a very pleasant time. He turned his head to the sound of a gong somewhere in the house.
“And that would be dinner.” Terence explained as he knocked out the remainder of his pipe into the fireplace before heading to the door.
Stefano turned to the daughters and offered to escort them. “Ladies?” To his amazement and lack of pleasure, an arm was latched onto by the Lady of the house.
“Oh, they’ve had their supper already. Besides, they have their studies then off to bed.” She practically towed him across the room through another curtained doorway to a noble-looking dining hall. One of their servants pulled back a chair and indicated it to him. He sat with the offered assistance, speaking an under-tone “Thank you” to the lad.
And Gerik is not present. I hope the boy isn’t avoiding me after my assault on his senses. No, he probably didn’t even take notice. Stefano listened politely as the Lord and Lady regaled him with their travels, eating slowly, nodding politely any time they paused, saying “Please, do continue.” Just let this ordeal be over echoed through his mind.
Before dessert was served, the front door slammed and a voice rang out. “Mother? Father? I came home early. The gents had planned some fool outing…” He stepped in the door and stopped short. “My apologies, I forgot you were entertaining.”
Stefano raised his water glass to sip as his eyes raked over the form in front of him. Riding boots, snug trousers, a white silken shirt, tucked in of course but pulled somewhat loose at the waist. The shirt was unbuttoned practically to the beltline. A light sheen of sweat glistened on the young man’s chest, the perfect picture of immature maturity, just learning of life. Stefano was certain that if his heart still beat, it would be loud enough to hear in the far rooms of the home, and racing like a wildcat’s.
“Father, my apologies again. And to you Lord Stefano. Please forgive. I shall go and … clean up.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, taking the air with him. Or so Stefano felt.